The Graveyard Shift
by green-piggy
Summary: The night before their final experiment, Aeleus is assigned the unwanted duty of protecting the graveyard.


At the pinnacle of the public gardens, there laid a graveyard. It was an odd place to build one, and odder still was its creation to begin with; after all, when people died, they faded away into fleeting orbs of light (one of the many mysteries Even and Ienzo and their countless other researchers were attempting to solve). There was no body to bury. No flesh for the maggots to rot at or for the earth to claim as her own.

Aeleus sniffled at the moist damp in the air. There was dirt gathering on this particular marker, one that stood next to one of Radiant Garden's numerous fountains. He flicked it off easily and glanced at the name inscribed at the marble marker's top. Only rich families could afford marble; the majority had to settle for wooden markers that would eventually twist and knot.

Ah, he recognised this name. A famous woman who had been largely responsible for the technology that allowed the fountains to have even been constructed to begin with.

He sighed, and turned back around, stomping over to his favourite bench; a haggardly thing, that despite its rotten, twisted appearance, was still as durable as it had been since it was made. Most likely strengthened with magic, he thought with a small chuckle. Even did enjoy casting magic on anything and everything and seeing what theories he could conjure from the results.

None of the guards wanted to patrol the graveyard, but it was a duty that had to be done weekly. As a result, they all drew coloured munny balls from a pot without looking; whoever drew the red one was stuck with the duty.

Aeleus fingered the axe in his hand. And so, therefore, he was here. Not even ten minutes, and he was already bored to tears. It was silent here, hauntingly so, the weights of a hundred thousand million dead lives bearing down on the air, compressing it, squeezing it so tight that no sound could escape. Even Mother Nature knew to keep her quiet here.

His parents' markers would be here, somewhere. He snorted. Not that they mattered. His sister had insisted on them, the sentimental soft touch that she was. Aeleus hadn't seen her in years; the last he heard, she was a street performer.

A branch crackled and snapped. His eyes shot over at once; a sound that did not belong to the dead.

Two boys stood there, one ashen pale, the other _daring_ Aeleus to challenge their presence. It wasn't difficult to recognise them; Lea and Isa, the two troublemakers that were hell-bent on invading the castle, for whatever odd reason.

He rose, enjoying the way that even Isa seemed to stiffen a little. His footsteps squelched in the mud as he marched over, then he remembered his axe, and held it behind his back.

"What are you two doing here?" A rude question, perhaps, but they could have been plotting an attempt to break into the castle from even the graveyard. Running along the rooftops and then jumping in from an open hatch. It was possible. Finch, the potty old man that he was, insisted on having every window open and at least two clocks in every room. If anyone, even Lord Ansem, dared to close a window in his presence, he would smack them with his watch's chain.

Lea startled, rather reminding Aeleus of a bristled hedgehog. "None of your business," he spat out, clenching the watering can in his hand tighter. Aeleus stared at that. A watering can?

Aeleus drew himself up to his full height. Despite being the taller of the two, Isa still only reached to about his shoulder. It was somewhat amusing, having such a small child stand up to him; most adults would have long since shooed off.

"I'll repeat myself," he said, slowly. "What are you two doing here? More plans to sneak into the castle?"

"That's exactly it," Isa droned, in the tone of voice that implied that they were doing anything but. He gave a stiff bow. "Now, if you'll excuse us." Without waiting for a pardon, he slipped past Aeleus. Lea gave him a look, then smirked at Aeleus and made to move as well.

Aeleus's hand gripped the back of the boy's bandanna.

"Ah-! Hey, hey, get off!" Lea snapped away and whirled around. "Just leave us alone for once, all right!?"

His eyes were bright, but not with anger. Aeleus hummed and placed both hands behind his back; a silent offering of peace. "Very well. I'll leave you to it."

"Lea," Isa said softly.

Lea gave Aeleus a look, the one that spoke volumes, the one that Lord Ansem would give them all whenever he simply needed some time alone. He snapped his head away and nodded. "I'm coming."

Aeleus gave a small nod and sat down at his favourite spot, staring at the lemonwood tree towering nearby.

They were muted, quiet shuffles and murmurs accompanied by the occasional water gushing into containers, and then sprinkling over the earth. Aeleus didn't once glance at them, an odd feeling churning in his heart. He was interrupting something important, as though he had gazed into a mirror for too long, catching glimpses of another world, of another life that he had no right to witness.

It was a long time before they made to leave. Water dripped from the can as Lea trudged off. Isa stopped and gave Aeleus an odd look, one of quiet gratitude, and then he followed after his friend.

Dusk settled in the sky, the lingering darkness that came for them every day without fail. It was almost time to return to the castle. Aeleus picked himself off the beach and lingered over the marker that the boys had been at. It wasn't difficult to see, what with the dark splotches around the soil and the rainbow of flowers bursting from beside the fountain's edge. The marker had mostly rotted, held up only by a miserable, tottering plank. If he tapped it too hard, it would crumble.

His fingers brush over the flower petals. Bellworts, anemones, baby's breathes, peonies, lilies, sandworts... a huge variety of them. How all of them can grow so close together, blues and peaches and purples wrapping around one another in a relentless battle for the sky, he doesn't know. As guards, he and Dilan had been taught about poisonous plants, but not about their growth.

There was something beautiful about plants, about how nature could create such wonderful plants and yet bring such terror to those living on her soils. Flowers spurting forth from fissures left by enormous earthquakes. Shards of glass sprinkled in sand after a thunderstorm. It was an endless list, and one that made him feel quite insignificant.

But these particular flowers were in remembrance, for someone that had long since left. Most people left bundles of meaningful flowers, symbolising loss and memory and all of the themes of death, all bundles that would wilt and die within the week.

Instead, these boys had allowed flowers to grow. One peony had wrapped itself around the marker's base. Aeleus made to peek at it, stopped himself, and instead rested his hands on his legs. What a clever idea, he thought. Life springing forth from death.

"Are you quite done?"

A familiar voice. Aeleus did not jump; instead, he stood up straight and turned. Dilan's gaze was sharp, almost disappointed. His spear thumped the soil, once, twice, sending tiny granules spewing into the air.

"It does not do to be such a sentimental fool." Dilan's scowl somehow deepened. "Those children didn't affect you in any way, did they?"

"What children?"

Dilan snorted. "You know who I speak of."

Aeleus glanced back to the marker. "I believe this is the grave of a loved one of theirs. A parent, perhaps?"

"Perhaps," Dilan said, blithely, in a tone that suggested that he could not have cared less. "Your duty is up. It's time to return to the castle; Xehanort wishes to meet us. Apparently he and Braig made a large discovery, and he wishes for all six of us to be there."

"Does Lord Ansem know?"

"Of course he doesn't." Dilan shook his head, his braids shaking with the motion. They were messy, strands of hair peeking out from their hold. Aeleus sighed and made a mental note to repair them in the morning. "Although I can't say I agree with hiding such things."

"Likewise, but we are a minority overruled."

"Indeed. Come, let us return."

The sun was but a bright dot in the distance. If Aeleus had known that it was the final time he would have seen such light on Radiant Garden, he would have stayed for much, much, lower. As it was, he did not know of the horrors that would visit them this night, and so he did not.

They were ascending the steps to the castle's entrance when Dilan started speaking, which was unusual enough to warrant listening to him. "Xehanort is looking for children to experiment on."

"Beg pardon?"

"You heard me." Dilan shook his head. "I do not agree with such ideas, but he is desperate to see the effects of darkness on a child's heart. Not someone as young as Ienzo-" he hastily added, somehow able to sense Aeleus's quiet anger at such an idea. "-And, besides, he is too valuable a mind to lose."

"A young teenager, then?"

Dilan nodded, and both of them must have been thinking of the same persons, as they shared a careful glance.

"Surely not..."

"Aye, I fear so." Dilan sighed. "Braig suspects that they may attempt to break into the castle again. He suggests that, this time, we allow them to, and lure them to the basement. Lord Ansem is meeting the townspeople tonight, so we have the castle to ourselves."

"But-" The Heartless dwelt in the basement. If they-

Dilan dipped his head slightly. "They are still children. I would not wish these experiments on people as young as they." He opened the latch on the door and pushed it open for Aeleus to enter through.

"Agreed. Dilan, we must prevent them from entering at all cost." Now that Xehanort had expressed such a morbid interest... the further these experiments continued, the less he wanted to go through with them, but they had all come too far to back out at this stage.

Xehanort wanted to send innocent children to their end. No. He would not allow it.

"Indeed. For now, we must meet with everyone else."

"Of course."

Aeleus locked the door behind him. Silently, unknowingly, they walked to their deaths.


End file.
